


What the Heart Yearns for

by darktensh17



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Character Death, Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darktensh17/pseuds/darktensh17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris was killed by Danarius, but his spirit lingers in Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dragon Age Kink Meme

Fenris lies eternally in wait, his entire being and existence focused on only one task. This task drives him, somewhere inside of him he knows that his freedom can only be achieved by completing this task. How he came to be in this place in order to complete that task he cannot always recall.

He knows only that it centers around one person; Danarius.

Sometimes he sees glimpses of memories. Images flashing through his mind of people that he does not recall, along with some who seem familiar, and always there is Danarius.

Memories of Danarius come with fear, hatred, and an anger that burn through his entire being. It is a burning that echoes a pulsing pain throughout his body; a sensation that seems a part of his being but never seems to recall. Lyrium, his mind supplies, but he cannot recall why the word is tied to the pain and what it means.

Such thoughts are always pushed from him mind or overlapped with thoughts of Danarius. He remembers the man who is responsible for his death; for all of the hate and pain in his life.

Often he forgets that he is dead at all, and there is only the hate and pain; it is what keeps him in this place, wandering from room to room without purpose or any real awareness.

He has one purpose, one task, and when he accomplishes that task he knows the hate and pain will go away.

Buried beneath all of this is something else; a yearning and a memory.

Freedom.

It is a faint whisper; an echo of a distant dream. Much like everything since the death he cannot recall else it is faint and fades in and out of his mind. 

This is his existence, the only one he knows and so he lies in wait for Danarius, driven by and consumed by his one task.

This not existence is only broken by the occasional intruder into his home. His anger consumes him then. Danarius! His mind screams, and he attacks, driving away any who dare enter. No one is allowed to enter but Danarius. He is always left disappointed; the intruders are gone and Fenris returns to his waiting.

Other than these brief moments of lucidity, Fenris merely drifts without awareness or conscious thought. That is until the day the mage comes and changes everything.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t know why you need me here Hawke, Seneschal Bran said it was ghosts not demons. I’m a mage, so what pray tell do you think I can do against ghosts?” Ander asked, tapping his foot impatiently while he watched Hawke’s face go from casually bored to his ‘I need you face’. Anders loved Hawke, the man was one of his closest friends, but he could be infuriating at times.

“Well ghosts are just spirits right? You’re a spirit healer and Justice is a spirit, so one of you should be able to do something.” Hawke always seemed to have an answer for everything, he did have a point, even if things didn’t exactly work that way.

“I have better things that I could be doing you know.” Anders insisted, more to himself than Hawke, knowing deep down that it was useless to argue. He was still following Hawke as they headed toward decrepit mansion that their ghost was apparently hiding in. Isabela and Varric followed along with them, making up the other two members of their team. Briefly Anders wondered why the heck Hawke needed so many rogues? Especially when he himself was a rogue?

Hawke only waved a dismissive hand at him as they got to the house. “I know you have lots of important healer and mage things to do, but you’re here now so let’s just go and get what we came to get done over with. We just have to banish ghost, or maybe a demon, whatever is living in this place and them boom! More sovereigns for the Deep Roads expedition. Seneschal Bran is paying us pretty handsomely for completing this job.” 

Anders rolled his eyes at that. “Fine, let’s just get this over with, don’t cry to me if things don’t go the way you want them.” There was something about this mission and this house that was rubbing Anders the wrong way. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was about to happen.

“Now, now don’t be so pessimistic Blondie, part of the fun of these things is when they go horribly wrong.” Varric added with a grin before reaching back and patting Bianca. “Don’t worry, Bianca and I will keep you safe.”

“I’m not worried about being kept safe, I’m worried about being killed due to Hawke’s idiocy.” Anders replied in annoyance, ignoring Hawke’s squawk of indignation at the comment. “I don’t want to be here.” I don’t think any of us should be here. He didn’t voice that thought out loud, but he felt Justice’s agreement in the back of his mind.

Isabela clucked her tongue and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “It’ll be a fun little adventure, even without a ghost. This place used to belong to a Tevinter Magister so there’s bound to be some interesting treasures, exciting magical artifacts. All of which will likely be guarded by some nasty traps of course.”

Throwing up his hands in surrender, Anders followed Hawke into the abandoned mansion, shaking off Isabela’s arm as he went. “Maker save me from rogues and their apparent suicidal tendencies." 

“I don’t think he’s saving you from anything sweet thing, he’s probably laughing in delight at seeing you in strange situations.” Isabela called from behind him as she and Varric followed him into the house.

“Looks like someone needs a new interior decorator,” Hawke murmured, clucking his tongue as they entered the main hall. “This place must have been really nice before it was practically destroyed.”

Anders looked around taking in the destruction all around. It was obvious a battle had taken place here, though the dust gathering on everything hinted that it had been some time ago. There were bodies in various stages of decomposition scattered around the room,and Anders noticed that there was also scorch marks on the ground that was reminiscent of an area that a demon had been summoned in.

On the other side of Hawke, Varric laughed, “You don’t think the look of decrepitness and decomposition is charming Hawke? Mind you a few flowers wouldn’t hurt, you know to brighten the place up a little bit.” 

“I found some mushrooms growing on this corpse over here does that count?” Isabela asked as she poked said corpse to the left of the doorway with one of her daggers. “They’re likely poisonous.”

Anders was barely paying attention to what was being said, not long after they’d entered he had begun to sense something that shouldn’t be sensing so strongly in a house. Lyrium, and in a pure form or he wouldn’t feel such a strong pull from it.

/The song calls us/ Justice’s whispered, a sense of awe in his voice that Anders had only heard once before when he had been given a ring containing a piece of pure lyrium by the Warden Commander.

Together they tried to sense where the lyrium was located, seeking out the source with magic. It didn’t take long, the lyrium practically pulled at their magic, leading them to a door well hidden under the staircase.

Anders turned back to where the others were still poking around the room. “Hawke, I think I’ve found something that may be of interest to us.” Anders called out as he walked toward the door, the earlier sense of foreboding flaring up as he placed his hand on the door handle. Whatever ill occurrence was waiting it would happen behind this door. 

\- 

Behind the door a presence began to stir; it could tell that intruders had entered the its domain. Somehow it knew that this time was different; the touch of magic had called it into a sense of wakefulness that it had not felt in some time. 

With that wakefulness came a sensation; a phantom bruning that was an echo of something that had occurred long ago, pain that was more than just a memory. The burning was echoed by a glowing corpse in the corner that the presence did notice.

The magic had awoken one word in the presence’s mind.

_Magister_

Danarius had returned and Fenris was ready.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Unaware of the presence stirring down in the cellar, Anders examined the door with a critical eye until Hawke bounded over next to him with a silly grin on his face. Not that an idiotic grin wasn’t Hawke’s usual facial expression, which was possibly what made him so endearing

“Good job Anders! And to think it’s usually Isabela and I who are the ones who find all the secret and fun things!” Anders suspected he was referring to traps, which only Isabela and Hawke would find fun. Humming thoughtfully Hawke began tapping on the door, possibly looking for traps and ‘other fun things’ in a way that only a rogue could comprehend, and which Anders did not understand or care to understand. 

After several taps and inspections, Hawke stepped back with a satisfied nod. “Looks’ good let’s go in.” Without any care he pushed the door open and went to take a step inside. It was only Anders strong magic sense that kept him from becoming nothing more than a set of charge bones and a soot stain on the wall when a rune activated under his foot and sent a huge fireball blasting upward.

“Oooh magical traps, that’s a new one!” Isabela practically cooed as she sauntered over to examine the rune, with Hawke joining her soon after despite his near encounter with death. Why were rogues so damned aggravating? Anders wondered to himself bitterly. Of the three of them, only Varric seemed to have any sort of common sense, or that could just be an attribute of being an archer; hand back and let everyone else take the brunt of the attack. A sound strategy that many a mage tended to employ. Whatever sense he did have didn’t seem to apply to his written work, which Anders found tasteless and predictable. 

“Just stay back and let me disable it, you don’t know if it was a one time trap or if it will go off again.” Anders ordered as he pushed Hawke and Isabela away from the rune before casting a spell to disrupt the magic that had been cast to set the trap. As he did, he could feel the pull of lyrium more strongly than he had at any other area of the house. Without a doubt the source was coming from wherever this door lead to, and Anders had to resist the urge to race through it and find the source. There was likely to be more traps and Anders was disconcerted as he began to pick up on a humming sound and wondered if this wasn’t what Justice had been referring to when he mentioned a song. In the back of his mind he felt a rumbled affirmative from the spirit. The confirmation wasn’t particularly comforting.

It took some time to get the traps disabled, and no small amount of effort, but eventually Anders deemed it safe to proceed forward. Much to the delight of the two overly excitable rogues, who rushed forward eagerly no longer worried about traps that they couldn’t handle. Anders even swore that Hawke had taken several of the runes that the traps had been set in and pocketed them. 

“Maker spare me from idiots.” Anders muttered under his breath, staying well away from the two more insane members of their party. Varric laughed and patted him on the back in a comforting gesture as he passed by him and headed down the stairs after Hawke and Isabela with Anders following soon after. 

Some how they all made it into the large cellar in one piece. 

As Anders stepped into the room, raising his staff high to light up the area, he heard Isabela whistle in appreciation; one of the cellar walls was lined floor to ceiling with shelves containing hundreds of bottles of wine. Even from where he was standing, and his limited knowledge of wine, Anders could tell that the dust covered bottles were quite expensive. Giving the grandeur of the manor and it’s location in Hightown, that wasn’t really all that surprising. 

Anders had never had a real taste for wine; growing up Ferelden he had more of a taste for ale and stronger and stouter drinks. Justice had put a stop to all his drinking after they’d merged, leaving Anders with a disinterest in alcohol. He left it to the three rogues to peruse the bottles; all of them having a great appreciation for alcohol they would have more knowledge and interest in it. 

There was something of much greater interest to Anders in here, he could feel it pulling him toward a group of barrels in the right corner of the cellar. Keeping a tight grip on his staff, he cautiously made his way over to where he could feel the lyrium and hear the humming getting louder and louder. 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find behind the barrels; lyrium potions, lyrium dust, perhaps even a pure chunk of lyrium ore, which was cause for concern. What he did find was completely unexpected; lying behind the barrels looking for all the world as though he was sleeping was perhaps the most attractive elf covered in the strangest markings that Anders had ever seen.

Without pausing to think of the possible danger, Anders hurried over to check on the elf, pressing his fingers against his pulse point and holding his hand over the elf’s mouth to check for breathing. Finding none he called upon his magic to try and heal him only to discover exactly where the lyrium call was coming from. At the first touch of his magic the markings lit up, flashing brightly and repelling Anders magic. For a moment the humming Anders had been hearing in his head turned into a wordless song, and he could feel a strong sense of loss and longing coming from Justice. 

Attracted by the flashing light, his companions quickly made their way over to him to see what was going on.

Hawke clucked his tongue as he looked down at the elf’s corpse pityingly. “Poor bugger, wonder what he was doing in here all alone. Do you think one of the magical traps could have done him in?” 

“Such a shame, he’s so handsome too.” Isabela added with a shake of her head. “Not enough good looking men in Kirkwall.”

Varric laughed at her words, as he came over to join them, Bianca ready in his hands. “You mean good looking men you haven’t slept with Ravaini.”

“If you’d only accept my offer.”

“You know I’m a one woman dwarf, and Bianca doesn’t like to share.” Varric bent down next to Anders and studied the corpse carefully. “Didn’t Bran say this place has been empty for a few months? Shouldn’t he be decomposing?”

Anders had wondered at that as well, studying the corpse with is eyes. He dared not try to touch it again with his magic. “Either the Seneschal was wrong, or his lack of decomposition has something to do with all the lyrium that’s covering his body in the form of those markings. It’s possible that’s what is keeping the body intact.” 

“Lyrium? Who would be insane enough t- ” 

Hawke didn’t get to finish what he was saying because suddenly furniture was being tossed about, joined soon after by the bottles of wine, which were being thrown at them with near perfect accuracy. Anders managed to get a shield up to keep them all safe from the boozy projectiles. “I think your ghost has found us Hawke.”


	4. Chapter 4

The moment the intruders had stepped foot onto the premise, Fenris had become aware of their presence. The lyrium in his markings tingled at the presence of magic; a mage then, possibly a magister and his or her guards. At first Fenris had though it was Danarius returning, giving Fenris the opportunity to finally finish him off. There was no familiar prickle from the magic that was cast, casting doubt on his initial thoughts. Instead of attacking directly, Fenris held his position, waiting for the intruders to come to him. Even if it was not Danarius himself, they could be agents sent by Danarius to take him back. If this was the case, they would soon find out that he would not go without a fight. 

Fenris waited patiently, crouched in his hiding spot in the cellar of the estate. He knew from his own journey through this estate that there were several traps hidden throughout it. He was half hoping that some of the intruders would be taken out by the traps, leaving them either dead or injured and giving Fenris an advantage; even for someone who a trained warrior like Fenris would still have some trouble against a mage and three others with unknown skill. On the other hand, Fenris had incredible amounts of pent up rage waiting to be unleashed and these intruders. 

When the mage began to use his magic to dispel the traps, Fenris felt every spell as it was cast. For him it was as though a great weight was taken off the house making everything less tense. Fenris himself did not relax, instead he became more alert; any mage that could disable Danarius’ traps so easily was likely a powerful one, possibly even a magister himself. Fenris would need to muster all the strength within himself in order to deal with the mage.

The moment that the mage; no Fenris was sure he must be a magister, and his companions stepped foot in the cellar, Fenris was ready for them. He called upon memories of hunting through the jungles of Seheron during his time with the Fog Warriors, recalling the patience they had exhibited in hunting their prey, allowing to feel a sense of security and letting it drop its guard until it fell into their line of sight and they attacked. 

When they were where he wanted them, Fenris surged up and flew at that magister. He ignored the guards completely, he could sense that they were not mages and so posed less of a threat; Fenris could easily take them out after he dealt with the magister. None of them would even know that Fenris was there until it was too late; Fenris was a warrior like no other, just as Danarius had created him to be. He knew this to be an absolute truth, Danarius had told him often enough, and the other magisters would marvel at him confirming Danarius’ claims. 

Sword in hand, though he had no relocation of having unsheathed it or picked up off the floor, Fenris reached the magister and swung at him with all of his strength. One good chop across the torso should take him out with ease. Fenris had considered taking his head off, but the man was much taller than Fenris, and he would lose momentum and swing strength by trying to swing at such a height. With the torso he could do the maximum amount of damage to an area that contained so many vital parts.

He thought that the attack went through without any missteps. Around him the sound of wood cracking and glass shattering was a testament to his attack. The magister however remained unscathed, as did his guards. They all pulled out their weapons quickly; becoming alert and defensive moments after the attack but Fenris could sense that something was wrong. His attack should have killed the magister in one swing, truly this man was worthy of the title. Quickly he retreated into the shadows to that they could not see him and tried to plot his next attack.

It seemed Fenris had underestimated the magister, he should have known that anyone sent after him by Danarius would not be an easy target to take out. There was no end to the experiments and spells that the magisters of the Imperium would dabble in, it was possible that they had found a counter measure to his markings. It appeared that in order to kill him, he would have to force the magister’s hand and have him deplete his mana first, and then kill him before he turned to his blood magic.

“Come and get me pawn of Danarius! I do not fear you!” He could not hear the sound of his own voice over the roaring in his ears. “You will have to kill me if you wish to bring me back to him!” He taunted the man, intent on angering the magister enough for his senses to become clouded

Judging by the bewildered looks on the guards’ faces, they could not locate his hiding spot which worked in Fenris’ favour. If he could get them far enough away from the magister that whatever spell he had cast to protect them would fade, then perhaps he could take them out and then it would be easier to take on the magister.

Fenris continued to taunt the guards as he kept his distance, throwing things at them to keep them irritated. His plan seemed to be working; the tall bearded man that reminded Fenris of a bear had begun to swing his daggers in the air, growling in frustration. Beside him the woman was focused as much on dodging the projectiles Fenris was throwing at him, as well as trying to locate him. The dwarf however remained stubbornly by the magister’s side, his crossbow would pose a problem while Fenris was dealing with the other two.

Unhappy with the time it was taking, Fenris knew that we would have to strike again soon. Already the magister was lifting his staff and beginning to cast a spell, Fenris could feel it pulling at his markings. If he was going to attack there would be no better time than now; so long as he stayed out of the way of the blast and had his counter attack ready, he should be able to take the magister out with less difficulty this time. 

Gripping his sword tighter, he pressed further into his hiding spot, readying himself for his charge. He watched the magister intently; saw his focus on the magic, his attention pulled away from watching for Fenris. Now! 

Springing forward he lifted his sword up for a mighty swipe. 

The spell hit him in the center of his chest, sending a surge of agony through his body. It felt like his very being was pulled apart and he could not hold back a scream of agony as everything began to fade to black. Dimly he wondered if this was how he would die, in agony at the hands of a magister, then he knew nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a little worried about this part but hopefully I conveyed what I wanted. Fenris doesn't actually know that he's dead so everything that is happening he thinks is magic.
> 
> Next part we go back to Anders and have our official meeting


	5. Chapter 5

“Holy crap! Where in the Maker’s name did that floating, glowing elf come from!?” Hawke exclaimed loudly, echoing what they were all likely thinking at the moment. Lying on the floor not far from them was the translucent doppelganger of the body of the elf that they had found behind the barrels; glowing markings and all. 

Anders couldn’t help but stare at the ghostly figure of the elf, trying to figure out what had happened. One moment they had been alone, trying to protect themselves from all the debris flying at them. The next thing Anders knew, Justice was sending him a silent warning and he found himself sending a bolt of spirit magic at what had seemed to be the empty air in front of him. There had been a blinding flash of light, an unearthly scream had echoed in the air around the cellar, and suddenly the elf’s form had appeared floating five feet in the air before collapsing soundlessly to the ground. 

None of them moved, eyes focused on the elf, before Varric bravely went over to him, Bianca held at ready, and made to poke the body with his boot. Unsurprisingly it went right through the collapsed figure. “Well Hawke, I would say that this is your ghost. I guest Bran wasn’t just blowing smoke out of his arse when he said this place was haunted.”

“Well then,” Hawke said thoughtfully, before he turned and settled his gaze on Anders, the other two following suit soon after.

“Oh no Hawke!” Anders held his hands up defensively, slowly backing away from Hawke “I’m a mage not an exorcist! I told you that when you decided to drag me in here, I have absolutely zero knowledge about ghosts! You would have been better to bring Merrill along, she’s probably had more encounters with the undead than I have!” Excluding darkspawn, which weren’t technically considered undead. 

Isabela waved her hands in the direction of the seemingly unconscious ghost, if ghosts could even lose consciousness. “You’re the possessed mage; you have to know something about ghosts! Besides you’re the one who made with the magic and stopped him from attacking us! Obviously there has to be something that you can do.” 

Anders rolled his eyes in annoyance at her words. “That was a lucky shot,” and mostly Justice’s warning, “I know nothing about ghosts. Obviously I completely missed Exorcism for Dummies and Dealing with Ghosts 101, while I was locked in the Circle because, surprise, surprise I have no more idea than you three about what to do about ghosts. Up until he appeared I didn’t even believe that this place was haunted, I thought it was just some thugs who had moved into here, or at most a minor demon causing some havoc.”

“So then, what’s our next move?” Asked Varric giving voice to everyone’s’ thoughts. 

There was a moment of silence as they all contemplated just what their next course of action would be. Anders suspected that he wasn’t the only one who had doubt the validity of a ghost actually inhabiting this manor. They’d likely all thought it was something they could deal with using weapons and magic, instead they were up against something that was untouchable in every way and they were at a loss of what they could do about it. 

It was during this time that their ghost decided to wake up. 

Being a ghost he couldn’t wake up like a living person would. What happened was the ghost going from lying motionless on the ground one moment and then the next he was on his feet with a giant ghostly great sword held in his hands. His gaze landed on Anders, simmering with hatred. “Magister!” He shouted before charging at Anders, sword raised in a swinging action.

There was no way that Anders could cast a spell quickly enough to protect himself from the attack. In depseration he threw his staff up in hopes that it would block the sword long enough for the others to do something. It proved unnecessary; as the elf followed through with his attack, his sword went right through Anders, his body following soon after. The sensation of having a ghost go right through left his body tingling, and Justice giving what felt like a shudder within his mind.

The attempted attack left everyone momentarily shocked, even the elf, whose gaze was focused on his hands an expression of confusion marring his see-through features. 

“Well, I guess all the ghost stories are true, they really can’t hurt you.” Varric commented as he rested Bianca against his shoulder. “But the question of what we’re going to do about it still remains.”

Before anyone could offer a reply, the elf cursed and charged back through Anders, trying to attack first him and when that didn’t work the rest of the group. It was slightly jarring at first to see him charge forward with that giant sword, but after the first half dozen attempts it became saddening to watch his efforts as he grew more and more frustrated. 

Eventually the elf stopped and glared at them all with the greenest eyes Anders had ever seen, even if they were transparent. “What have you done to me magister!?”

Isabela grinned at that. “Oh good! Not only does he say things other than magister, he’s also apparently aware of us. That’ll make things a little easier. Maybe we can just ask him nicely to leave.” 

“Not helping Isabela.” Anders groused as the elf tensed, glaring at her before his gaze settled once again on Anders as he addressed him. “Look, first of all I’m not a magister; I’m just a regular mage turned Grey Warden, turned apostate. Secondly we didn’t mean to disturb your place of rest but you really can’t be haunting this place, it belongs to the city now and they can’t get anything done if you keep scaring them to make them leave.” He kept his voice calm and soothing, using the same tone that he would when speaking to the frightened and teary children that were sometimes brought to him for healing. “If you’re having trouble moving on then maybe I can find a spell or something to help set your soul free. We’ll give your body a nice proper burial, say some prayers over it, and then you can move on to the side of the Maker or whichever deity you may worship.” 

The elf stared at Anders as though he had grown a second head, face twisted with both frustration and confusion. “What are you babbling about mage?” He asked in a voice that clearly conveyed that he thought Anders may be less than sane. 

Anders shared a glance with Hawke before turning back to the elf. “Don’t you know your dead?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is totally not abandoned! I'm just an incredibly slow, forgetful writer, who has too many fics going.

Fenris stared at the magister, the man must be mad. Dead? That was not possible; it was just another trick that Danarius was playing on him, trying to get him to let his guard down. He must have instructed this man to confuse him. Fenris hefted his sword and swung at the magister, but the barrier around the man was still too strong to penetrate. 

“Would you stop that!?” The man shouted his staff flashing and sending Fenris back a few steps. “It’s not going to work, you can’t hurt us. Listen elf, whether you want to believe it or not, you’re dead. Or at best your soul is trapped outside of your body.” He pointed his staff at something on the ground behind some badly damaged barrels. “Look.”

There was a possibility that this was another trap, but Fenris was getting frustrated at his lack of progress and was beginning to suspect that either this magister was incredibly strong or there was something horribly wrong with this situation. Whatever was going on, the magister was right about his attacks being futile. “If this is a trick magister. . ” He growled in warning.

He received an annoyed sigh in response. “I already told you I’m not a magister; I’m an apostate, a healer, and just plain old Anders. In case you’re wondering, though I doubt you are, these three are Hawke, Isabela and Varric. And it’s not a trap. Just go and look.”

Fenris hadn’t been wondering who the magister’s bodyguards were, but filed the information away, it could prove useful later. “I am watching you.” He warned again for good measure, before going to see what the magister was so insistent about.

For the first time in weeks the dingy basement in which Fenris had been lying in wait for was filled with light, both from his own markings and the magister’s magic. The light was reflecting off something in the corner, the very area that the magister had been pointing. As Fenris moved closer he realized that it was lyrium reflecting the light, the very lyrium that had been carved into his own flesh; the flesh that was lying on the floor before Fenris, pale and seemingly devoid of life.

“No. . .” Fenris took a step back, and was suddenly acutely aware that he could not feel the stones beneath his bare feet, or the cold that would be expected from stepping on a basement floor. “This is a trick.” As he stared at the corpse, his corpse, he knew it wasn’t, already his mind was flashing back, reminding him exactly what had happened that night so many months ago.

Everything seemed to fade away as the memories swept him up.

_“DANARIUS! He shouted as he stormed the mansion. “Your trap has failed! Face me!” Only silence answered him at first. Unsurprised but still angry at his former master’s cowardice, Fenris pressed on, determined to finish this once and for all and gain his freedom._

_When the first shade appeared he took care of it with ease; one swing of his sword and it faded into the floor, as did its brethren as they too oozed up from the floor. “If you think this is enough to stop me Danarius you are wrong!” He bellowed, making his way through the rooms, pushing through unlocked doors and never realizing that he was being led to exactly where Danarius wanted him._

_Each room held its own shades, and soon enough minor demons began to appear. As Danarius’ slave and bodyguard Fenris had faced much worse than this. Still with each battle he began to tire, even as more and stronger demons began to appear. By the time he reached the cellar he was panting with exhaustion, his arms aching from constant battle. This was it. Danarius had to be here, there was nowhere else for him to hide._

_Fenris would finish things and finally secure his freedom._

_With trembling legs he made his way down the steps, expecting to find Danarius waiting for him. Whatever satisfaction and revenge he thought he would attain, it was robbed from him when he found not Danarius waiting but a pride demon. It leered at him from where it stood in the centre of the room. “Poor little slave, your master pays his respects but regrets that you are not worth his time. Do not worry though, he will return and reclaim his investment from your withered flesh when it pleases him to.”_

_Rage poured through him, “If Danarius is too much of a coward to face me alive, then I will wait for him. I will destroy you and bide my time until his patience wears out and he returns here, and then I will kill him.”_

_“Such pride little slave.” The demon purred, swelling before his eyes. “You have nothing left in you; I see how you fight simply to stand. I shall have a grand feast tonight it seems for it will take little to defeat you.”_

_Fenris roared and charged at the demon, swinging his sword with what remained of his strength. The demon had laughed raising its arms and Fenris world erupted with pain and then nothing._

Realization and hopelessness brought Fenris to his knees, knees that did not touch the floor beneath him. It was true then, he had failed and that failure had ended in his death. Now Danarius would come for his body, strip the lyrium from the flesh, and Fenris would be able to do nothing but watch. Caught eternally helpless between life and death; a ghost with no hope of ever avenging himself. 

He barely heard the sound of footsteps coming closer before the mage knelt before front of him. “Look, I’m really sorry to be the one who revealed this to you. But I promise that I’ll find a way to set your soul free and send you to the Maker’s side.” The words were meant to be comforting but they only served to anger Fenris.

“Get out.” He growled, raising his eyes from the floor to stare into the mage’s honey brown ones.

The man looked startled at his sudden anger, “If you’d only let me help.”

“I said get out!” His rage allowed him to physically push the mage away from him. Standing he glared at the others gathered. “All of you get out!” Bottles and other debris began to fly at them all; Fenris didn’t care if they were hurt, he wanted only for them to be gone. 

“Let’s take the angry ghosts advice and get out of here! We can’t do anything about it today Hawke, so we’ll have to come back later anyway. Maybe our broody ghost will be in a better move then.” The dwarf shouted, even as a piece of wood flew at his head. 

The others seemed to agree and hurried out of the cellar. Even the mage left, looking back only once before he disappeared up the stairs with the others. Somehow Fenris knew the moment they truly left the mansion, once they were gone everything that had been flying fell to the ground and Fenris was left alone with his hollow rage.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow writer is slow. But hey I've got all the previous chapters edited, so yay?

Two weeks after their meeting with the ghost, Anders found that he couldn’t focus on his work. His mind kept going back to the elf, trapped between the world of the living and the dead. Despite the rage that had been the cause of their running from the mansion, when Anders had glanced back as they fled, he had seen not only anger but also sorrow and hopelessness on the elf’s face. Since then it was all Anders could think of. 

After they had escaped the mansion Hawke had gone to Seneschal Bran to let him know what had occurred. The man had been less than pleased, and had informed them that if they wanted to be paid in full they would need to remove the ghost from the premise. He had given Hawke a quarter of what the job had promised and then had them kicked out of Viscount’s Keep, informing them to return only when the job was fully complete.

Ghosts were not something that was covered in the Circle’s standard education. It was only demons that the Chantry deemed to be worth mentioning, even good spirits were given no more than a brief once over, and then only to warn young mages away from contact with them. As a spirit healer, Anders had more education than most mages in the area of spirits but still knew next to nothing about ghosts.

The one downfall about like outside the Circle was that he didn’t have access to the vast collections of books that were in the Circle libraries. Luckily Anders had something that was almost as good; a dwarven business man capable of finding almost anything, or so he claimed. Which was why Anders was now sitting in Varric’s room at the Hanged Man, a watered down mug of ale in front of him as he told Varric what he wanted.

“You’re really serious about this Blondie?” Varric asked incredulously, looking down at the list of requests Anders had given him. There were at least half a dozen books, and then some instructions for other books that may be helpful. “How do you even know that books on exorcism and communicating with the dead exist?”

“Even though it’s not a topic that is generally discussed, I do believe that there will be books on it. Not all magical mysteries are caused by demons, and we know that ghosts exist.” Taking a sip of his drink Anders put it down with a grimace; it was so watered down it didn’t even remember what ale tasted like. 

Varric tapped his chin as the continued to study the list. “Some of these I can find pretty easy, but some of these other ones I’ll need to dig deep, especially the ones where you’ve just got a topic listed. This last one though, spirit binding, isn’t that something you’re already fairly knowledgeable on?” 

“Just because Justice and I share a body doesn’t mean I know everything there is to know about the subject,” or really anything about it, he and Justice had been lucky. Anders wasn’t even sure if their merger would have been successful if it weren’t for the fact that he had been in danger of losing his life. When he’d been pierced by that templars sword he’d been sure that was the end of things for him, it was Justice who had saved him. “I have no knowledge of ghosts so any information is useful, I can’t rule out any topic related to ghosts and spirits.” 

“Alright, alright. I’ll see what I can do. Although I gotta ask Blondie why are you so interested in that ghost? Especially after the warm reception he gave us.” 

Anders had mulled over that same questions several times during the last few days. In many ways he felt sorry for the ghost, but it wasn’t just that, there was something about him that drew Anders in. He’d been so aware of everything once Anders had unsuccessfully attempted to send a spirit bolt at him. Whatever had happened when the bolt hit the ghost had cause him to become more aware, if his confusion about everything that was happening was anything to go by.

“I want to help him. . . even if it’s just to send him to the Maker’s side.” Anders admitted lamely. The words were true but they didn’t encompass everything that Anders felt toward the ghost. There was just something about him that drew Anders in, his new awareness, his completely intact corpse, the lyrium that he could sense from both the corpse and from the ghost himself. Anders himself hadn’t been aware of the lyrium coming from the ghost; it was Justice who had pointed it out to him later. It only served to deepen the mystery around the elf, for Justice had never experienced such a thing either, not that the spirit had much out of Fade experience.

He was hoping that one of those books would give him some idea of what was going on; there was even a request for a few books on lyrium. He’d never seen nor heard of someone having lyrium carved into their skin, which is what he suspected had been done to the ghost judging by what he had gleaned from his corpse. 

Anders wanted to know more about the ghost and what had happened to him and there was really only one way to do that. If he wanted to know more about the ghost he was going to have to go and speak to him directly. Which may not be as easy as it sounded . . . especially after how their first meeting had gone.

“Blondie? Thedas to Blondie!?”

Varric’s voice snapped him out of his current train of thought. Looking up from his mug into the dwarf’s concerned face, Anders smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.” 

“In thought or in ‘thought?’” Varric asked, tapping his head in emphasis.

The question pulled a laugh from Anders. “Just in thought, no private conversations going on at the moment, I promise.” 

“Good to know I’m not being left out of any juicy gossip.” Anders thought about mentioning that Justice did not gossip, but decided it wasn’t that important, let Varric think what he wanted. “I’ll try and get these books as quick as possible, but I can’t make any guarantees.” 

Anders wasn’t expecting miracles, if Varric could get even a quarter of the books on that list Anders would be thrilled. “Thanks Varric, any that you do find just send them over to the clinic, I’ll be spending most of my time there anyway.” Downing the rest of his ‘ale,’ Anders stood and stretched. “Which I should be getting back to, there’s never a shortage of patients in Darktown.”

“Keep safe Blondie.” 

Nodding, Anders headed out, trying to ignore Justice’s dissatisfied grumble. /You lie to the dwarf/

“He doesn’t need to know that I’m going up to the mansion to talk to the ghost. It’ll only worry him and then he’ll tell Hawke, and it will become a big deal. I want to talk to the ghost one on one.” Anders explained calmly, keeping his voice low. “I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

/And if he attacks you?/

“That didn’t exactly work well for him last time. Besides spirit bolts seem to keep him in line. As much as I don’t want to resort to that, I will if I have to.” Walking up the steps to Hightown, Anders ignored anyone who was giving him weird glances. He wasn’t worried about what the average person thought, it was templars that he needed to watch out for and he was going to avoid them like the plague as he headed up to the ghost’s mansion. Maybe he should have reconsidered and waited for night until he made his visit. He was already half way there though, so no point in turning back now.

When he finally arrived at the mansion, it was no less foreboding than usual. He had to wait until the guard patrol passed by before he could sneak in. Once he was inside he wasn’t too sure what to do to catch the ghost’s attention.

“I told you to leave.” An angry voice came from directly behind him. Apparently he didn’t need to find the ghost because he’d already found Anders.


End file.
